


and there was only one (bunk) bed

by elysiumwaits



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, Gay Billy Hargrove, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Nuisances to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Steve Harrington, Sharing a Bed, blatant and excessive overuse of italics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/pseuds/elysiumwaits
Summary: Billy and Steve are forced to share a bed.A bunk bed.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 35
Kudos: 366
Collections: Harringrove Week of Love





	and there was only one (bunk) bed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Harringrove Week of Love's first set of prompts. I chose 'bed-sharing,' and this idea stuck and wouldn't let me go. Interestingly enough, it also fit the prompt "Modern AU." Important to note, I started writing this on February 9th at 8 pm, so that it would hopefully be done by the time midnight rolled around.

If Steve hears the second verse of "Take On Me" one more time, he's going to McFucking lose it.

" _Say after me.."_ Billy's mumbling from the bunk below him. _"It's no better to be safe than-"_

Steve smacks his hand on the mattress. It's pretty unsatisfying, honestly, just kind of a _fwump_ sound instead of anything impressive. Billy still pauses. "I swear to god, if you sing it one more time, I'm gonna make _you_ sorry." 

He would have _much_ preferred to bunk with Robin, but apparently her aunt has a thing against unmarried men and women sharing a room. Which is hilarious, because it means that curled up in the guest bed down the hall is Robin and Heather, as well as Robin's gigantic crush on Heather and Heather's gigantic crush on Robin. Steve's kind of hoping they do something about it, the whole blatant mutual pining thing they have going on is getting a little sad to watch. Which is a little rich coming from him.

There's quiet, and for one blissful second, Steve wonders if Billy is _actually_ going to listen to him.

He's wrong. Of course he is. Billy launches as passionately as he can into the chorus, a little louder now that he knows he's got Steve's attention. Still quiet enough that Steve is the only one in the house who's bothered.

A sound of frustrated rage escapes Steve as he rolls over and hangs his head down to look at the bottom bunk. Billy just looks back, completely unrepentant, and in fact looking _very_ pleased with himself that he's managed to ruffle Steve's feathers. Steve swears, if they get stuck in this stupid house for another night because of the snowstorm, he's not sure they're both going to leave alive. 

"I will smother you with this pillow," Steve says, and dangles the pillow in question. They're in Robin's cousins' childhood bedroom, which means that Steve is currently trying to get a good night's rest on a twin bed that's a couple inches too short to be comfortable, and also is decked out in full 1990s Rugrat regalia. "The last thing you see will be Chuckie Finster's face."

"Aw, I'm _sorry._ " That's a lie, Billy isn't sorry. "You need your beauty sleep, princess?" 

Steve flops back onto the top bunk, tries to get comfortable. He doesn't really _fit._ It's his own damn fault, too, because when everyone knows the top bunk is supposed to be the best, but this is one of those bunk beds where the bottom bunk is actually like twice as big as the top. So he'd called the top, and Billy had said "no take-backs" with a shit-eating grin as soon as they actually _saw_ the bed. 

(Robin had reminded them that they're "adults, for fuck's sake, can we please act like it?")

(The answer is no, they can't.)

"We don't all wake up looking as pretty as you, Hargrove," Steve snipes back, with absolutely no heat. 

It's not the right thing to say, slips out because he's tired and cranky. What he should have said was... anything but calling Billy pretty. They have a solid friendship based on being mutual nuisances to each other, and also having both survived the supernatural shitstorm that was Hawkins. Like, who the fuck else is going to get it when Steve mutters that he'd prefer demodogs over this bullshit essay when they're studying at the library? Who else is going to laugh in the face of some frat assholes who are posturing because something-something with him, knowing exactly what Steve means when he says, 'Chad, trust me, I've had _worse'_? The only person allowed to threaten Steve with physical violence anymore is Billy (and also Robin because Robin is capital-S-Scary when she wants to be), and Steve can't remember the last time there was any actual malicious intent behind Billy's hands on him.

The huge crush Steve's got on Billy Hargrove's stupid face is inconvenient at best, world-shattering at worst. He _likes_ having Billy as a friend, and Steve's big gay feelings would probably ruin that.

"So you think Heather and Buckley are making out?" Billy says, just when Steve's gotten marginally less uncomfortable and closed his eyes. 

His reply is truthful, if inappropriate. "God, I fucking hope so." At Billy's shocked laugh, he adds, "The big lesbian yearning thing they have going on is getting depressing. How many times do I have to tell Robin to make a move?"

"Probably as many times as I have to tell Heather." Billy shifts in the bed below. "So at least a couple of times a day. Swear to god, I'm one _wistful fucking sigh_ away from just telling Buckley to man up and kiss her, or I'll do it for her." He pauses. "Woman up?" 

That one hits a little weird in Steve's chest. Billy and Heather used to be a thing, after all, even if it was apparently very casual and ended as amicable as anything. And like, Steve's tired and a little cranky, and he doesn't have the best brain-to-mouth filter on the _best_ of days, so he doesn't really mean to ask, "I mean, do you still have a thing for her?" But you know. Here they are. 

Silence, and then Billy says, slowly and incredulously, "No, Steve. I do _not_ still have a thing for Heather." It's his not-so-patient voice, his why-do-I-put-up-with-this voice, the one he saves for when something's gone completely over Steve's head. 

Curiosity wins out over being offended, though. Heather's hot, Billy's hot, and they seemed pretty comfortable together. It would make total sense that Billy would still have a thing. "Why not?" he asks. "Don't get me wrong, if you seduce her away from Robin, they will never find your body."

"Oh my god," Billy mutters, and then says, louder and just as disbelieving, "I'm not going to _seduce her away_ from Robin. What the fuck, Steve."

Oh, how the tables have turned. Steve has found a new way to annoy Billy, it's like Christmas came a few days early. "I just don't get why you guys broke up," he says, musingly, like he really cares. If he's being honest, he does care. A little. He's nosy, and it was really just like Heather and Billy went from being casually dating to 'oh, we're not doing that anymore,' sliding into friends like they'd never been anything else. 

"Because two sexuality crises at once does not make a happy heterosexual relationship, Steve," Billy snaps. "You can't have _both of us_ trying to figure it out."

Wait. Steve's brain stops, then starts again, like a slow loading screen on a computer. What?

Billy's still talking. "And, as it turns out, Heather being a girl was a pretty big deal-breaker for me." He sounds annoyed, like he shouldn't have to explain this. Like it's obvious. 

Steve would move, but he's afraid that he'll accidentally launch himself off the bed in the process. "You're _gay_?" Silence from the bottom bunk, and Steve quickly starts talking, "Which is fine, 'cause like, you _know_ I'm bi, I'm totally cool with it, I just didn't know."

More silence. And then, Billy's voice, threaded with all the tension of an already-impatient man being pushed to his limit, "You didn't _know_? I took you to that gay bar! I flirted with the bartender _in front of you_!" 

"I thought you were being _supportive_!" Steve splutters. Which, in retrospect, Billy did go pretty hard that night. Steve had wondered, but when Billy had looked over at Steve and winked, and then didn't actually go _home_ with the bartender, he had figured Billy was just being Billy. "I didn't... oh my god."

"Holy fuck," Billy mutters, and there's the sound of a body moving against the mattress, blankets being thrown back. "I flirted with him to make you _jealous_ , you're telling me this entire time you thought I was straight? Christ."

There's a creak, and it sounds an awful lot like Billy's hoisting himself up the ladder that was really not made for a full-grown man. "Wait, what are you doing?" Steve twists, and when he looks over, he can see Billy's face over the railing.

"I'm coming up there to kiss you, and that's a fucking _threat_ ," Billy snaps, trying to get up onto the tiny twin-sized mattress with Steve. 

"Okay, wait, _wait!_ " Steve gets his hands on Billy's arms. The ceiling is close but Billy is closer, above Steve and looking furious in the stupid little nightlight plugged into the wall. "I'm one hundred percent on board with kissing you, but I would like to point out that the bottom bunk is bigger."

Billy glares at him, but now Steve can see the way his eyes are bright, the determined joy underneath that exasperated and kind-of-angry-but-not-really face. "No take-backs," he says, and the corner of his lip quirks.

Steve grins, and leans up for a kiss. "No take-backs."


End file.
